


No Other Version of Me

by LiraelClayr007



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Awkwardness, Established Relationship, Fluff, Idiots in Love, M/M, but it's really mostly fluff, it sounds angsty at the beginning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-28
Updated: 2019-11-28
Packaged: 2021-02-26 02:27:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,398
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21596107
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LiraelClayr007/pseuds/LiraelClayr007
Summary: ...there’s something weird going on. Every once in awhile Bucky just seems...awkward. Like he doesn’t know what to do with himself. Like he’s a stranger in his own body. He moves with a lithe grace when he’s on a mission but sometimes, with Clint, it’s like he suddenly forgets all that. He bangs his head into Clint’s, or tries to hug him and ends up smacking him in the face with the back of his hand. His elbows do weird things sometimes too.***In which Bucky is awkward, sometimes blushes, and Clint just wants to kiss his face.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Clint Barton
Comments: 18
Kudos: 102





	No Other Version of Me

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Fox_MacLir](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fox_MacLir/gifts).



> ...I took this plot bunny and ran with it. Thanks to all of you on the BDBD, you know who you are.

There’s something weird going on between Bucky and Clint.

It isn’t lack of chemistry. They’ve got every kind of spark. Sometimes when Clint runs a hand through Bucky’s hair, down his spine, along his jaw he expects to actually see flashes of electricity. He can taste the ozone when they kiss, a tang of want and need and yes he’s never known before but recognizes instantly.

And it’s not a compatibility thing either. They can talk for hours about anything or nothing at all. Even their arguments are good-natured. (Most of the time. The time Bucky said he thought maybe Clint was drinking too much coffee Clint couldn’t even speak. He lasted an entire two hours and thirteen minutes without speaking to Bucky.) And they’ve become the kind of comfortable with each other that means they can just sit together--watching tv or reading books or looking out the window at the city--and not feel the need to fill the empty space with empty words.

But there’s something weird going on. Every once in awhile Bucky just seems...awkward. Like he doesn’t know what to do with himself. Like he’s a stranger in his own body. He moves with a lithe grace when he’s on a mission but sometimes, with Clint, it’s like he suddenly forgets all that. He bangs his head into Clint’s, or tries to hug him and ends up smacking him in the face with the back of his hand. His elbows do weird things sometimes too.

So when Clint wraps his arms around Bucky and Bucky bangs his chin against Clint’s shoulder and mutters, “fuck,” under his breath, then buries his face in Clint’s neck, he decides enough is enough.

“Bucky. Baby,” he murmurs into Bucky’s hair, kissing the top of his head. He doesn’t let go but walks them into the living room and tugs Bucky down onto the sofa. “Can you tell me what this is all about? I know _something’s_ gotten into your head.”

Bucky looks away, then sighs, resigned. He looks back at Clint and says, “You know Stevie and I were close, back before all this supersoldier stuff. We grew up together, I looked out for him. In some ways he even looked out for me.”

Clint looks back at him with a level gaze. “You’ve told me all this. _And_ I’ve been to the museum. Plus, I have eyeballs.” He lowers his voice and leans in like he’s telling a secret. “I don’t know if you’ve heard, but they call me Hawkeye.” He winks, and Bucky rolls his eyes, but the tension falls a little bit and Clint feels better for the silliness. He puts a hand on Bucky’s knee, rubbing small circles with his thumb. “Just tell me, sweetheart.”

“We were never... _lovers_. It was never anything like _that_.”

Clint has to stop himself from kissing the two bright red spots that appear on Bucky’s cheeks. That would do nothing to further this conversation.

“But Steve was all alone. He kept getting into fights--mostly because he was so fierce that he thought his attitude alone would eventually make him the victor, or that was my take, anyway--but he didn’t have a mom to go to for comfort afterwards. I was usually the one who patched him up, but it was more than that. He was--he more than my friend. He was like my little brother. And when he was hurt I hugged him--I held him--because I didn’t want him to hurt and he didn’t have a mom to hug him like that. Every kid should have someone to hug him when he’s hurt, even a knucklehead like Stevie.”

Clint laughs. It’s a soft, easy laugh, and it seems to bring Bucky back from his memories.

“You were a good brother to him. Still are, actually.”

Bucky shakes his head; he’s not saying no, he’s just trying to find clarity. “Until you, Steve was the only guy I’d ever really hugged. And I mean, I hugged Becca, and Mom, but Becca always seemed so tiny, and I was bigger than Mom by the time I was...” He makes a frustrated sound. “I’m not explaining this well. Or I’m saying it out of order.”

He takes a breath, Clint can almost see him trying to arrange the thoughts in his head. “Alright, so, there were guys back then. Not many, but there were some. But things were just different in those days, so secret. There was a lot of frantic groping and making out in back rooms or shadowy corners, but there wasn’t much _cuddling_.”

Clint nods; that part he gets. And every time he holds Bucky’s hand in public, every time he takes him out to dinner and reaches across the table to tuck his hair behind his ear, every time he rests his head against Bucky’s in a movie theatre he’s thankful they live _now_ and not _then_.

But he has no idea where Bucky’s going with this line of thought.

Bucky seems to be working up to something, though, so Clint just encourages him with his eyes. Or he tries to, anyway. For all he knows the message he’s sending is _This is a great story but where are my slippers?_ or _I’d really like some coffee now_.

After a minute or so of silence, Bucky covers his face with his hands. He murmurs something, but Clint can’t make it out.

“I didn’t catch that, Buck.”

He moves his hands just enough so they’re not covering his mouth and he mutters, “I’m not used to being the little guy.”

And then everything lines up and Clint gets it. 

He tries to hold back the grin but he can’t help it. “God, Bucky, you’re anything but little. You’re the fucking Winter Soldier, there’s not a person on the planet who would look at you and say, ‘yeah, he should be bigger.’”

The red spots are back on Bucky’s cheeks. Clint’s brain is close to shorting out, looking at this beautiful man and knowing he’s _his_ , knowing he can still say things to make Bucky blush. That all it takes is a little compliment to turn him this color.

But this, right now, is about other things. Focus, Clint’s brain.

“But you’re taller than me,” Bucky protests, if a bit weakly.

“Yeah, but you can still toss me around like a ragdoll. Trust me, I’ve experienced it.”

“It’s just...confusing. My body isn’t sure what to do. And I’m used to my body obeying without question. Without much thought.”

Clint decides it’s okay to kiss the blush on Bucky’s cheeks now. So he does. He kisses one cheek, then breathes, “You’re thinking too much, sweetheart.” He kisses the other cheek. “Just let it happen.” He kisses Bucky’s lips, so soft, so giving.

Both of them are breathing harder when Clint pulls away. “I got you,” Clint says, pressing their foreheads together. Pulling Bucky onto his lap, he says, “Yeah, I got you.”

They sit like that for a few minutes, just looking at each other. Then Clint grins. “We could go make out in the stairway. You on one step, me on the one below.”

“No!”

Clint is so startled by the force of Bucky’s reaction he jumps and nearly drops Bucky.

From the look on Bucky’s face, he’s surprised too.

“No?”

And Bucky’s blushing again, but Clint tells his brain to ignore it. (It doesn’t work, but he tells his brain anyway.)

“No. I...I just have to get used to it. It’s awkward and strange and sometimes it’s frustrating…” He trails off, then he smiles in that way that only he can, the way that makes Clint’s heart skip, makes him wonder how the fuck his life ever turned out this way.

“It’s kind of a pain. A lot like you, actually.” Clint pulls a face and Bucky grins. “What, are you denying what a pain in my ass you are?” 

Clint rubs circles on Bucky’s back. “No. That’s valid.”

Bucky’s smile is full of vindication and satisfaction. He kisses Clint softly, then scoots himself around so he’s tucked under Clint’s chin. “But I kinda like it.”

Clint pulls Bucky closer then says, “Wait. You like me being a pain in your ass or me being bigger than you?”

He can’t see Bucky’s face, but he knows he’s grinning. “Yes.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you random Hozier lyric generator for the title. 😜


End file.
